Though I'm The Sacrifice
by Little Miss Molly
Summary: OneShot A lil' YnMxM As the battle of Good and Evil rages strong, Malik hangs as though crucified, watching his darkness, his love, and in the end, his betrayer...


**Title:** Though I'm The Sacrifice  
**Author:** Baka Neko Molly-chan  
**Disclaimer:** Yu-Gi-Oh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi; the song "Missing" belongs to Evanescence.  
**Summary:** As the battle of Good and Evil rages strong, Malik hangs as though crucified, watching his darkness, his love, and his betrayer...  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes: **

Got this idea after watching the Ishtar vs. Yami duel for the millionth time. o.o Enjoy. Yeah.

**Edit 5/2 – Because FFn is a bunch of fucktards, the song lyrics have been removed from this fic. I hope they're happy about taking away yet another aspect of creativity in writing.**

* * *

Sometimes, I wonder if he even knows how to care. 

I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't; he is, after all, pure negative energy. _My_ negative energy. Made from _my_ pain, _my_ hatred, _my_ loneliness.

I'm sorry...it's all my fault.

I created this monster; this hateful and hating beast. It is _my_ anger he thrives within; his actions are nothing more then my most morbid fantasies carried out. Rishid, for a while, was able to restrain him; faithful, devoted Rishid, always at my side. Fallen now, at the will of a false Ra, which _I_ made him play.

He may as well have fallen at my own hands.

The moment he fell, the darkness within me awoke. Deep beneath he stirred, eager to be turned loose, to live after so many years of forced slumber.

My head throbbed.

It was then that I'd felt arms encircle my chest, and another body was pressed against my back. It startled, but did not frighten, me. There was something familiar about this being, a tickly of a memory I could not itch.

I asked who he was.

He told me he's come to help me achieve my goals. That he would give me anything if I only paid a small price - loan him my body for a short time.

You must understand - he promised me the world.

And I bought it. I let him lead me along, straight to my doom.

He kissed me then; gently at first, then steadily rougher until my lips were bruised and bleeding, and I struggled in his grip. His right hand held my wrists above my head, while the left crept beneath my shirt, tracing the scars that marred my back before traveling to my chest, moving steadily lower...

When I came, he laughed. It was a cold laugh, harsh and cruel. There was a message within that laugh:

"I've won."

I'm his sacrifice, now; a mere thing, to be disposed of at his will. If he loses, I die with him. If he wins, he will kill me. I'm the lamb on the altar over which two parties for the right to sacrifice - whoever wins, I lose. Whoever lives, I die. He betrayed me, and I have no one but myself to blame.

The Pharaoh's light doesn't understand; the Pharaoh doesn't understand; certainly the Pharaoh's cheering clique doesn't understand. Wait. No, one knows. Only one knows of my suffering and torment.

Mazaki Anzu.

Perhaps it stems from my presence in her head, this strange comprehension. But I see it in her eyes as she stares at me from the sidelines; she alone is familiar with my internal torment.

But she doesn't _understand_ - she knows of the feelings, but they are not hers, they are mine.. They are born not from her life experiences, but mine, and this she certainly doesn't know; just as I had intended it. So she's still oblivious...and I'm still alone.

_Alone_.

So morbid a word, when you truly ponder it over. You can be _alone_ almost anywhere - by yourself, obviously, but also in a group, or with another. For "alone" is more a state of mind then of physical beings. Take me for instance: surrounded by obedient henchmen, the world nearly at my fingertips, and to top it off, a mysterious presence lurking in my mind.

I was utterly alone.

Perhaps this is why I let him ensnare me so easily; for the mere hope of never again having to be alone. Didn't even have to use the cattle prod to round them into the slaughterhouse; they went right in willingly, absolutely oblivious. Next thing they knew they were stunned, hung on the meat hook, and chopped up to be shipped away; fresh hamburger meat. Never put two and two together in time to save themselves.

Just like me.

I've been broken - mind, body, soul, and heart. And it _hurts_; more then a cobra bite; more then a burning knife blade digging into your flesh; more then watching your father attempting to bring death upon your beloved brother; more then realizing the sister you held so dear now heads the very army that opposes you; more then the worst pain the human mind could possible concoct.

And he doesn't _care_.

He doesn't give a damn that this duel will cost me my life, whoever the victor. He doesn't care that he betrayed me; seduced me into trusting him, perhaps even, for a fleeting second, loving him, then tossed me aside with a knife through my heart. He doesn't care...and that's what hurts the most.

He's looking at me now. He does that a lot; he loves to look at me, touch me, break me, see me in pain. Hell, if I didn't stand in his way as I do, he'd probably keep me around. His little fuck toy. That's the way he is; the way, albeit unknowingly, _I_ made him.

It's all my fault.

Isis, Rishid, everyone...I'm sorry. I've lost the will to fight this any longer. Living has become nothing but pain; perhaps even hell will be nicer. You won't miss me - I've brought you nothing but hurt. If I could, I would retrace my every step, right my every wrong.

But I can't.

I know I don't deserve to be forgiven for the things I've done...but still I ask it of you. I beg you to forget for a moment that I am the very root and seed of your pain and suffering. Please.

Please...forgive me...


End file.
